The Tale of KK
by sandydragon
Summary: This is the story of everyone's favorite musician from his youth to present day. From romance to the dark side of the music industy, K.K. Slider has seen it all. Now it's his turn to sing out his story for the whole world to hear.
1. Prologue

It's been a long time since I've spoken to anyone about my past. Granted part of the reason for that is few people ever ask about it, but I also don't like to mention it if I can avoid it. I know many of my fans would feel sorry for me if they knew about it, but my life has gotten much better since then. Forgive me for taking so long in recounting my life. I figure I might as well put my past out there since I won't be around forever. There are certain issues from my past that may concern some people today as well.

Anyway, I'd better fill you in on my early years before I jump to the action. You see, musicians like myself always have stories behind them. There is more to my music that simple tunes after all. Not many people or animals know the history behind my songs and that history needs to be heard. Besides, a story isn't a story if it doesn't start somewhere.

I was born in the extremely poor town of Boondox. Before you ask, we did not eat dirt. No pun intended, but we were not dirt poor. Life sure was hard though. Believe it or not, my little family was actually relatively well off. My mom died giving birth to me, so I can't say much about her. My father always said I'd inherited my taste for music from her though. He said she loved all sorts of music, but she adored playing her harp more than anything. My father kept that harp so well polished after she passed on that I could see my reflection in it. My father was a country born man who worked in the family orchard, but he could be quite nimble with his huge paws when he put his mind to it.

I'll bet you're wondering why an orchard owner could be considered well off. The people and animals of Boondox didn't have many good jobs though. Many had to scavenge for food and water and though families with more money like mine could afford clean drinking water, we were lucky to get fresh food. It was almost always stale and that sure didn't help its taste one bit. I do remember that my father managed to buy me a box of stale cupcakes that were actually still tasty for my sixth birthday. How did he pull that off? Poor old Dad worked his tail off, that's how. He tended the whole orchard by himself day and night. He let me help him pick the fruits and bring them to market once I got older, but he still did all of the heavy work. When a tree got old and died or if a good offer came along, he'd chop it on down and carve it into something beautiful. Sometimes it would just be regular old firewood, but I've seen him carve furniture that Tom Nook would be proud to sell. That wood was how we really raked in he Bells.

The most beautiful think he ever made from that wood was never sold. When I turned 16, my father gave me the best guitar I'd ever seen. That old guitar is with me to this day and is as faithful as ever. Unfortunately, it was the last gift my dad gave me before things got ugly. The town had finally gotten too jealous of Totakeke and his old dad.

I'm afraid you'll have to wait until my next entry for the violence. For the sake of my readers, if I have any, I'd rather not shock them too much right off the bat. I must warn you; this will be a tale of violence, romance, heartbreak, and corruption. Many of you will be shocked by the events detailed in this story. But I'm going to sing this old song to its end. You might find yourself cheering at times, laughing at others, and unfortunately crying at still more. I can't determine whether the beat of this story will strike your fancy. All I know is that I need to get this off my chest. Whether you'll listen to my tale or not is up to you.


	2. Run

Three months after I turned 16, my whole life was turned upside down. You see, the people and Animals of Boondox are usually kind folk but poverty can drive anyone to do horrible things. After years of watching us live in relative comfort, the other townsfolk became jealous of our prosperity. To this day I don't know how long the act was planned for or who started the whole mess. All I know is we were no longer wanted.

Neither my father nor I saw it coming. We were on reasonably good terms with most of the villagers and even the ones who disliked us simply just avoided us. Besides, the harsh winters in Boondox typically prevent its residents from coming outside at night. The villagers could barely stay warm in their own homes, let alone outside. Yet an entire mob of animals braved the chill of the night.

My father and I both awoke to the smell of burning wood. We rushed downstairs to find the source of the problem only to see the front door as well as our living room up in flames. We grabbed what little drinking water we had collected in buckets and threw it on the flames in an attempt to put them out, but it was no use. The fire had grown too big for us to handle and we were already wheezing thanks to the smoke. The two of us had to leap out of a window to escape the fire.

While the fire consumed the rest of our home, we were cornered by the angry mob of animals. Their eyes glittered with hunger and greed as they closed in on us. While my father had managed to save my guitar from the flames, his fate was much less fortunate. The last thing I ever saw him do was charge straight at the mob while screaming at me to run away before it was too late.

Running as fast as my legs could carry me, I couldn't afford to look back. The roaring blaze that had been my only home kept producing smoke that choked my lungs. The dash through the mob left me bruised and beaten, but it was the smoke that nearly killed me. My whole chest seemed to burn hotter than the raging inferno behind me. I didn't dare stop running. I could hear the horrible bellowing of the mob not far behind me and even as young as I was, I was not crazy enough or stupid enough to slow down.

After what felt like hours, my body felt like it was giving out. My lungs were screaming, my bruised body was aching, and I had even ended up with cuts all over my legs caused by the thorns in the forest that were still oozing blood. I collapsed with a groan on top of the hill. Too tired to try and consider my surroundings, I passed out not long afterwards. It was only the next morning at the break of dawn that I got a chance to look down upon the bustling city not too far away.


	3. City Blues

My muscles were still sore by the time I got the chance to take a good look at the city. It was not quite as big as I had imagined it to be, but it was busy all the same. Animals were rushing to and fro as they desperately tried to make a living while a small handful of humans casually strolled past the stores. They were clearly better off than anyone I'd ever met, but that's not to say all of the animals were lower class. Most of the shop owners appeared to be animals and they barely had to lift a finger all day.

My time for observing was quickly cut short by a rumbling growl from my stomach. I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before. You may think my poverty back then might have helped me get used to hunger, but you are sadly mistaken. I may not have eaten good food, but I had always had a tiny bit of food I could count on. I didn't have a single Bell to my name or a single crumb of food in my pockets.

As my stomach's protests intensified, I glanced around me in hopes of seeing some easily obtained food. My eyes soon fell upon a quant little bakery in one of the city's side streets. As much as my mouth watered at the scent of the freshly baked bread, I could not stoop so low as to steal. Instead, I sat across from the bakery and prepared my guitar. I knew that even if nobody would be kind enough to help me, a little music would at least let me unload some of my feelings.

Back then, I didn't have many songs I new by heart and the ones that I was familiar with were very simple. You know the kind, the little tunes that kids sing with their friends and family. Finding that none of them fit my mood quite right, I decided to put my paw to the strings and just let my emotions guide the tune. I played a soft, sad blues that I could tell passers by were listening to. Many of them slowed down as they passed me and a few even had tears forming in their eyes, but it took a long time for anyone to stop.

I let my heart and soul melt into the music and, before I knew it, I couldn't even tell if anyone was listening to me. Lost in my own sorrow, I didn't notice the crowd forming around me until it had been an hour since I had tuned out the world. I only noticed the mass of animals and people after I stopped playing and when I did the crowd applauded me. I still can't even begin to express the bliss I felt back then. Seeing one's music make others happy is a beautiful thing and since it was my first time doing so to anyone besides my dad, I was in shock.

After the thunder of the applause died down, I saw a single, tall figure glide his way through the crowd. Everyone seemed to know by instinct to let him through and even I could see why. He was a lanky cat with glossy golden fur, a well kept suit, and, though I couldn't see it, an obviously fat wallet. Once he reached the front of the crowd, he bent down and spoke to me. "Dear boy, those are quite the skilled fingers you have there. Would you and those fancy fingers care to join me at my record company?"


	4. Welcome to the Band

The cat, Vladimir was his name, walked me all the way to his mansion on the other side of the city. I'm not calling it a mansion just because it was the biggest building I'd ever seen. It must have had at least five floors and it even had a humongous pool out front. The inside of his home was even more impressive though. It was lavishly decorated with chandeliers, statues, and probably the most expensive furniture he could find. Since my stomach was still growling mighty fiercely, Vladimir was kind enough to cook me some spaghetti before we got down to business. I'd never seen spaghetti that wasn't stale before and this particular plateful even had tomato sauce and meatballs on it. Believe it or not, Vladimir actually said that he only gave me a small portion so that I wouldn't overeat and make myself joke. That one plate was still worth about a month's worth of food in Boondox.

After I had eaten my fill, Vladimir started telling me all about his business. He had access to nearly every music store in the nation and all of the biggest bands recorded their songs with him. Oddly enough, he was a musician himself. He played the drums in his own band, The Party Animals. They were often touring the country playing to giant crowds full of thousands of fans. Their records sold like wrapping paper in Christmas time whenever it was in stock.

You can imagine my excitement when he began making my contract. I was to be the bands guitarist and would start off as a backup singer as well. Vladimir said that he might promote me to lead singer if I became popular enough. I was ready to believe I was hallucinating or dreaming by this point. But the deal didn't stop their. I would be given a room at Vladimir's mansion and would have all of my needs catered for. I could even access his private studio to record my own songs if I wanted too. Of course, the Vladimir would receive a percent of all sales since he was going to be my manager. We both signed the contract and shook hands. "Thank you, Vladimir. I've never even dreamed of a future this fortunate!"

Vladimir just smiled. "Please, call me Vlad. Now that we will be working so closely together, there is now need to be quite so formal." He took me by the arm. "Come, you must meet the other members of the band. They will become your best friends from now on." Vlad led me down a couple corridors until we came upon his studio. Apparently, the band had been on break as they were all chatting amongst themselves. It didn't take long for them to notice me though.

Vlad made sure that I became well acquainted with everyone. There were three other members besides Vlad and I and they all had interesting stories. A large raccoon named Ichi played the piano. He looked a little bit like Tom Nook, but he was a lot taller. He seemed to be very relaxed and calm too. Daichi on the other hand was much more excitable. He was a muscular tiger who was the lead singer. He also claimed to play the electric guitar and, apparently to everyone else's amusement, a harmonica. He defended his instruments reputations as he apparently wanted to fit into both country and rock music. This was clearly a touchy topic for him, so nobody pushed it much.

The last member of the band was a gorgeous fox named Geisha. She was very multitalented. I'd love to name all of the instruments she could play, but then I'd be rambling a bit much. She sure did now how to play the heartstrings the best of all though. All it took from her was a wink and a shy smile and I was smitten. I could already tell she was my favorite band member.

It was getting late, so Vlad had Ichi take me to my room. He didn't talk much, but he did say to be careful with Geisha. He claimed that many animals, including Daichi, had become infatuated with her over the years. I told him that I wasn't interested, but he saw right through me. His last words to me before he left me alone for the night were, "Just be careful kid."

I had no time to ponder Ichi's words of advice as I stared in awe at my new room. It was more of a good sized house itself actually. Besides the front door and the door to the bathroom, all of the sections just had halls between them. I had a queen sized bed all to myself, a sizeable kitchen with a fully stocked fridge (even with alcohol, though I was underage at the time), a living room with a large couch and a plasma TV, a study with bookshelves lined with music books, a bathroom with more cleaning supplies that the whole population of Boondox had ever possessed, and, best of all, a small auditorium for me to practice in. As I collapsed into my bed, I wished my poor old father could see me know. Not long after that, I was dreaming of crowds of fans calling my name.


End file.
